Ravensong's Challenge

Chapter Three

Ravensong crept through the blackness of the den, letting her eyes adjust to the dark. She could see roots and sharp rocks protruding from the floor of the hole. The mewling noise grew louder and louder as she advanced. Ravensong then spotted what looked like a large mound of russet-colored fur lying among the scattered remains of a nest.

At this point in her exploration of the den, Ravensong was unsure what to do. She couldn't smell anything over the stench of the fox, so she could only assume that this pile of fur had to be the creature that inhabited the den. She really didn't want to go any further; fear kept her paws planted on the ground. However, the mound never stirred, not even moving gently up and down to suggest breathing. Regaining her composure, Ravensong creeped forward, inch by agonizing inch.

Reaching the pelt, she gasped in a mix of horror and amazement. It definitely had to be a fox, judging by the enormous set of jaws that gaped open, revealing razor sharp teeth. And it was definitely dead too. She breathed a sigh of relief, but stopped short when she heard the mysterious mewling again, now louder than ever. Narrowing her eyes, Ravensong tentatively reached out a paw and prodded a lump of moss. Suddenly... it moved.

Ravensong jumped back in surprise. Quivering all over, she watched as the lump shivered, then fell apart, revealing a tiny fox kit. It wriggled around the bare earthen floor, its eyes tightly shut and mouth gaping wide, mewling urgently. Ravensong carefully bent down and sniffed it. Great StarClan! she thought. It must be less than three moons old!

As gently as she could, she picked the scrap of fur off the ground by the scruff of its neck and placed it in a larger clump of bracken where it would be safe for the moment. Then, hearing more noise behind her, went to investigate the rest of the den. A few moments later, and there were three fox kits in the pile of bracken, and now all wailing.

What now? Ravensong asked herself as she sat back on her haunches, staring at the little bundles. They were obviously starving; who knew how long they had been stuck here with the dead fox? She must have been their mother, she realized. She turned to the dead vixen and inspected her. She was completely red, except for one startling white spot on her chest. Like me, Ravensong thought absently. There were no marks on her pelt, so she hadn't died from a fight. Then Ravensong noticed how thin the fox was. Her bones stuck out sharply against her skin, and her blank eyes were gaunt with exhaustion. Starvation. She looked back at the still yowling kits next to her. And the same thing could happen to these poor kits...

Ravensong bent down and began licking one of the kits, murmuring to it. "Poor scrap. I bet you're hungry, aren't you?"

To her surprise, the kit opened its eyes and stared at her with large, liquid eyes. Their yellow depths intrigued the she-cat. This wasn't a monster; no, this was a kit like any other, hungry, alone, and scared. Someone had to help these creatures, and she knew that that someone would have to be her.

Picking up one kit in her jaws, Ravensong took him out of the den and placed him outside. Then she quickly went back for another. Once all the kits were out of the cave, she helped two of them onto her back. They clung to her like burrs in her pelt, hanging on for dear life. Scooping up the remaining kit in her jaws once more, she walked off into the forest. Heading to the border already with a plan in mind, Ravensong quickened her pace. She didn't want to meet up with any of her Clanmates and have them find her carrying fox kits. That would be awkward...

As she passed the scent markers that defined the territory's boundary, guilt twinged in her belly. I'm doing the right thing, she told herself over and over. I have to save these kits and get them away from Clan territory. Aren't I following the warrior code by doing this? However, the nagging guilt would not leave her mind.

Just then, Ravensong spied a hole nestled in the roots of an old elm tree. She stopped outside it and slid the kits off her back as gently as possible. By now they were too exhausted to continue their crying, but just sat right where they landed, looking dazed and forlorn. Ravensong set the last kit down and then turned to investigate the hole. It was dry, warm, and didn't smell of foxes or badgers, signalling that it was unused. Perfect.

Back outside, Ravensong ushered the baby foxes into their new den. They stumbled down into it and lay in the semi-darkness, tired beyond belief. Ravensong quickly spread some moss from outside on the floor, and they nuzzled into it, falling asleep almost immediately. Ravensong gazed at them, not sure what to feel. Then she shook herself. Come on, Ravensong. The Clan needs fresh-kill.

So do they, she retorted to her own thoughts. With that she headed out of the den once more. After catching two mice and a squirrel, she stopped by the den again and dropped off a mouse for the kits.

One was awake and crying again. Ravensong stooped over the little fox and licked his ears, trying to comfort him. "Everything's fine now. Ravensong will look after you, don't worry," she murmured, doubting that he could even understand her.

She was about to exit the den and start the trek back to the camp when she heard the kit make a noise that sounded... familiar. She stopped in puzzlement and turned to see what was the matter with him. Ravensong perked her ears and listened to the fox, trying to understand.

"Ra... Rave...song..."

Ravensong gasped in astonishment. He was saying her name! And in her own language as well. Up to that point, everything the kits had said was a mystery for her, as they had only spoken in the strange grunts and snaps that foxes use. Now, however, here was this kit, repeating her own words!

The fox had fallen asleep again, and Ravensong quickly ducked out of the den and into the darkening woodlands. Imagine that- a fox kit, speaking cat! And because of her, Ravensong...